If Tomorrow Comes
by Violet Teardrops
Summary: "There is no greater sorrow than to recall, in misery, the time when we were happy." You only realize how much you loved someone when you realize it's too late. This is Cato's story, told in his eyes, and then hers when he's no longer alive to tell it.
1. The Beginning

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

**A/N: So this is the multi-chap fic I was talking about in my append story 'My Last Goodbye'. The append story was just an introduction, and this multi-chap fic is very different from 'My Last Goodbye'. It would be stupid if MLG was just a summary of this one; am I that helpless?**

**Anyway, please read this. for all those who love Cato, mourn for him, and wish he hadn't died, maybe even imagine that he had that special someone waiting for him, then I suppose this is the fic for you. Mind you though...I follow everything that happened. So yes, Cato does die, but there is more insight into his death and the effect it has on the people who love him. Like me. :D**

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_"...but grief is the ultimate unrequited love,_

_for no matter how hard or how long we love someone who has died,_

_they can never love us back."_

_- Rosamund Lupton_

Sunlight was peeking through the window, and birds were chirping brightly, prodding her to get up. Her alarm clock rang thirty minutes earlier, yet she still lay lazily on her bed, hiding underneath the covers.

It was a Saturday, the perfect day for an eighteen-year-old to sleep in and skip training.

After much deliberation, she gave a groggy yawn, and threw the covers off. She turned to her side and slowly opened her eyes, glimpsing at the bed beside her.

She sighed. Of course, it would be empty.

It always was.

She sat up, stretching her muscles, hearing her bones crack slightly. Her eyes lingered on his bed, untidy and messy. It was his habit of never fixing the bed he slept on, not even his blankets, which were all bundled up at the foot of his bed.

As always, she got up and fixed both, plumping up the pillows and spreading the sheets over the mattresses.

She was supposed to head for the shower when something hit her toe.

Looking down, she saw it was his sheath.

He always left that thing lying around, especially when he was out training. Sighing with exasperation, she bent down and propped it up by his miraculously neat side of the desk.

Well, the only reason it was neat was because it barely had anything in or on it; just a couple of picture frames of him and his family. His certificates and one trophy - nabbed for being first place in their wrestling competition a few years back - were displayed on their shared shelf, so apart from the photos, his credentials, and a box of his personal things, it was virtually empty.

"Gone again!" she said to herself, shaking her head as she stepped into their tiny bathroom. This, apart from the desk, was the only place she could say was neat and tidy, because she always made sure it was. She hated messy bathrooms.

She hung her towel on the rack and pulled off the hairband that held her dark hair up and away from her face.

She stepped into the shower, letting the warm water run through her hair and down her body.

She loved the water; it was nice and warm, and it smelled clean, very different from District 2 itself.

District 2 was not dirty or polluted like the things she heard about Districts like District 8 or 12. It has that air of mining, definitely, but it was also fresh. Probably it had something to do with the fact that the villages of District 2 were widespread throughout the mountains, not hard-packed like District 12.

She reached out for the soap dish to find that it was empty; she cursed and made a mental note to remind the custodian that they were out of body soap so he could deliver another boxful.

After she cleaned herself up, she dried her hair with the towel, pulled her hairband around her wrist for later, threw on sweatpants, a light blue cotton shirt and her training jacket. She slipped on her training boots, grabbed her sword and his empty sheath and headed for the Weapons Room, where she knew he would be.

After quite a while of walking, she made it to the room. Its doors were large and made of bulletproof glass, so you could just peek to see who was inside.

She pushed the door open. It wasn't surprising that there was no one inside the room; it being a Saturday, most kids chose to procrastinate and rest their sore muscles.

But definitely not him. A grin grew on her face as she caught sight of him in the middle of the room.

Already there were piles of decapitated and de-limbed dummies strewn on the floor around him. He was focusing on the current dummy, whose arms, torso and chest area were covered in slash marks.

He was here a long time; you could tell just by looking at him. The heave of his chest indicated his panting, the sweat that glistened off his shirtless body...

She shook her head. His bright blue eyes did not even flicker toward her as she strode over, nor did he acknowledge her presence. His eyebrows were pressed in concentration while his large muscles flexed with every slash of his sword into the dummy. Beads of sweat dropped off the ends of his blond hair as he hacked away mercilessly.

Finally, she spoke. "Cato."

He sighed, running his sword through the dummy again. "Hello, Alix."

Silence.

"It's a Saturday, you know," she told him, flipping her hair way from her face.

He didn't look at her, but he said, "I know."

She crossed her arms. "Did you even have breakfast?"

He stabbed the sword deep into the heart of the dummy. "I don't need breakfast."

"Yes you do," she told him. "I know you. You're cranky on an empty stomach."

"I'm not," he said defensively, looking at her for the first time today.

"That's what you think," she retorted. "Quit the training for a while. I'm starving and I'm not eating without you. C'mon, let's go, we can practice later."

He shook his head. In a swift movement, he cut off the arm of the dummy. "You go. I'm not hungry."

She gave a stubborn huff, and before he could split open the dummy's head, she was standing in front of him, her hands stopping his from going down.

"Give me the sword," she said.

"Let go, Alix," he growled, his grip on the sword tightening.

"No can do, Cato," she said teasingly. "You move that blade and my hands will be bleeding in no time."

She saw him grit his teeth. "God, why do have to be so stubborn?"

"Because apparently you think it's better to starve yourself to death," she said. "Ever thought your muscles need protein to grow stronger, Cato? And where can we find protein? Oh, yeah, FOOD."

Cato sighed with exasperation. He shook his head and she felt his hands slacken. She let them go so he could drop them to his sides."You annoy me like crazy."

"That's what best friends do," she shrugged, taking his sword from his hand. "Now go take a shower."

"Yes, mother," he said mockingly. Then he laughed when she punched his shoulder.

"Ugh!" she groaned, wiping her knuckles on her pants. "You're so wet!"

He laughed again and picked up his shirt from the floor. "You know how wrong that sounds, right?"

She stuck her tongue out at him and slipped the sword back into its empty sheath. She followed him and waited outside the shower room, watching as three trainers took away the dummies Cato destroyed.

They all had a look of both awe at Cato's abilities, and annoyance that he ruined another week's worth of dummies _again._

That was Cato for you. Ever since she could remember, Cato had already demonstrated a fierce liking for violence, and although violence was highly credited in the Academy, it credited less than a pooping monkey for Alix.

But, again, that was Cato. It was a part of him, and Alix knew that, dealt with that. She'd rather kiss the pooping monkey than reject Cato for all he is. She liked the whole package, and she'd paid that price several times over, without any regrets.

Which is why they were best friends.

Technically, they grew up together. First time they met was when they were five, on the first day of training.

She noticed him first. All the kids in their class were in awe and eager for their training, but Cato was special. He wasn't just in awe..he was enthused.

His blue eyes shone with excitement and Alix knew he would be different from all the other District 2 kids who grew up, training for their chance at becoming a tribute.

Unique, and one-of-kind.

So she tried to get his attention. She walked near him during the tour; when the trainer asked questions, she raised her hand even though she wasn't called, and even if she didn't know the answers.

It soon became apparent to her, however, that her tactics were not working, and the day was almost over. So she did the last thing she _could _do: she decided to say hi._  
_

Her chance appeared when they neared the Weapons Room. He was the first to reach it, clearly mesmerized by the shiny blades and various weapons. The class gave little 'oohs' and 'aahs', but only Cato leaned against the glass, wanting more than anything to have that barrier between him and the weapons broken.

Slowly, she approached him, and carefully positioned herself next to him, admiring the weapons as well.

He didn't pay attention.

But she waited for him to notice.

All the children had already followed the trainers away, leaving both of them behind. Still, she waited for him to notice this.

In the corner of her eye she saw him turn his head and look at her.

She turned to him, and smiled as pretty as she could.

He was looking at her strangely, so she did the first thing that popped into her head and stuck her hand out, remembering what her grandmother told her about manners when introducing yourself.

"Hi," she told him, her knees shaking, but she told herself to hold her ground. She could do this. She wanted him as a friend. "I'm Alix."

When he slipped his hand into hers, happiness spread throughout her and she knew that she and he would get somewhere when they grew up. That she made the right choice of friend, and that pushing away her nervousness paid off.

She never told him about that, and he never knew why she did it, not even now.

He didn't know her reason, and he didn't know how she felt when they became friends.

They spent their childhood together; training, playing, growing up. He was there for her when she needed him, like when boys bullied her, or that time when she sprained her ankle during training.

She was there for him when he needed her, like when he got unbelievably low marks for their end-of-the-year examinations because of his cramping leg, or that wonderful time when his baby sister was born.

They were more than friends, and after years of this, it became an unspoken agreement that they weren't friends at all.

They were partners in crime.

They had each other's backs, and no problem was too difficult to overcome, as long as they did it together.

Sometimes, people mistook them for a couple, because they were always together; training, eating, strolling in the school gardens, alone on his roof...you name it, they did it before.

By the time they reached thirteen, like the rest of the Academy kids, they were required to dorm in the Academy away from their parents until they turned eighteen. By the time they reach eighteen, they leave the Academy and the empty rooms are replaced by a new wave of thirteen-year-olds. It was standard routine.

It was an arrangement no one understood, yet no one questioned, either. They all thought that probably it was a strategy to make the children stronger and assertive, since they lived away from their parents and were free to choose what they wanted to do, as long as they trained.

No one really cared about gender. A boy and a girl as roommates? Why not? The children were too focused on their training to even think about relationships, dating, and other things. They were not worth the time.

There were never any cases of unplanned pregnancies in the Academy, which all the more supported the fact that they were too preoccupied with their training. There will still those parents who were paranoid and personally requested for their children's roommates, but Cato's and Alix's parents didn't mind.

It was no surprise when the roommates they chose were each other; everyone saw it coming.

The room assigned to them became their new home, the same room she fixed up and left just minutes ago. Their room, just like all the other rooms in the Academy dorms, was small, but there was enough space for two beds, a shared closet and a shared desk. Each bed had their own trunks underneath for personal things, and connected to the room was a small bathroom.

Most kids usually left their rooms unkempt and messy, since they didn't really care much for anything. But Alix didn't like messy bedrooms, and neither did Cato - well, to some extent.

She was nudged back to consciousness by Cato, whose hair was still dripping wet. He had a towel in his hand, and he was wearing a fresh shirt. The shirt he picked up off the floor a while ago must be in the laundry.

"Look at you," he told her, grinning as he slung his sword sheath over his shoulder. He motioned for them to begin the walk to the cafeteria, which wasn't too far away. "You look mad."

"Like pissed mad or insane mad?" she yawned, pulling up her hair in its usual messy ponytail.

"Both," he told her, pushing open the doors of the cafeteria.

The cafeteria was a really big room with plenty of windows to let in fresh air. Food was served in carts, almost buffet-style, and you could eat as much as you could. There were plenty of those round tables with stools around them, which were almost always kept clean by the custodians.

There were only a handful of people here; some kids skip breakfast to go home to their parents' house and spend the weekend there. During a school day the cafeteria was packed with students, but during the weekends they were free to manage their own time.

Breakfast today could be eggs, toast, coffee, orange juice, milk, muffins, or pancakes - a rare treat only reserved for when the Games were approaching.

Ah, the Games. It was a month away.

Warmth stirred inside Alix. She and Cato were eighteen this year. After the Reaping, it would be over for both of them, and she would be able to sleep peacefully at night from that day forward. No more worrying about losing your life or getting called...or worse...watching him get called and fight to the death on live TV for other people's unnaturally barbaric pleasure.

She hated the Games, which was an unusual thing for a person from District 2. She trained for the Games because it was required, but she wasn't blind to what the Games were, like the others.

And to think these people just volunteer risking their lives for entertainment...

She didn't like that. She wanted to have a long life, live a long life. There were so many things she wanted to do, and participating in the Games was not one of them.

Probably it was because of her parents. Her father was an ordinary stonecutter, working deep in the mines day after day to cut and haul large chunks of rock to be used for buildings. Her mother was just a housewife, though she did the additional stuff like cooking meals for the neighbors when they don't have time. It earns them extra income.

Being, well, not poor, but close to that, definitely gave Alix a different perspective as to how the Capitol ruled. They were, in her eyes, crazy, manipulative, and barbaric, not good, merciful people like many from 2 believed.

Even Cato believed that. It was one of the few things they disagreed on, and that topic usually sparked a shouting match between them.

She couldn't blame him. His own parents worshiped the Capitol like they were gods, and they lived the good life, as far as life in the Districts was concerned. He had no cause, no reason to think rebelliously like she did.

Cato's voice entered her thoughts and shattered her momentary black out.

"Are you gonna eat or what?"

She blinked and took a step back, startled. Then she looked up at him. He was grinning cockily at her, an eyebrow raised up to tease her.

Already his tray was full; piles of pancakes, one muffin, 2 eggs, several slices of toast, and two tall glasses of orange juice.

She looked down at her own tray - still empty. Her stomach growled, and she heard Cato laugh.

"Here," he said, carefully placing a piece of toast on her tray. On it was some sort of smiley face that he made using bits of muffin.

Alix stared at it, then laughed. "You're crazy," she told him, sliding an egg next to the toast. She grabbed a pancake and some juice, and they settled down on an empty table, facing each other. "Well, let's eat."

And eat they did. Actually, 'eat' was too mild a term for Cato.

He was _stuffing _himself - yes, all that food, good enough for two people, was for him - horking everything down. She didn't think he even bothered to chew.

"You are so glutinous," she told him in a disgusted manner. She was barely even picking away on her pancake.

"I'm _starving," _Cato told her, stuffing another piece of toast in his mouth.

"And just a while ago you said you weren't hungry," she said in a challenging tone, leaning closer to him. "Hypocrite."

"So I'm a hypocrite, big whoop," Cato said, scowling slightly. "Shut up and eat your food."

"Nah, you can have it," she told him, pushing her tray toward him. He stared at it in disbelief.

"You barely even touched your food!"

"Hey, I ate the egg," Alix said, sipping her juice. "But I'm not hungry. Not really."

"And just a while ago you said you were starving," Cato said mischievously, throwing back at her her previous comment about hypocrisy.

"Oh, shut up," she laughed, throwing a muffin piece at him. He caught it easily and tossed it into his mouth.

"You suck," she said, hitting him again on the shoulder.

"Of course I do," he grinned, sarcasm dripping in his voice. He stood up, taking both their empty trays in one hand, then said, "But then, if you didn't have me, where would you be?"

"The top of the class," she teased, throwing their sheaths over her shoulder and standing up. "Since if you weren't here, I wouldn't be below you in rank."

"Just admit I'm too awesome to be beaten," he told her, dumping their trays into the dishwashing area. "So, where to? Wanna go train?"

"Yeah, and end up with a stomach ache while we're at it," she said sarcastically, pushing the doors of the cafeteria open.

"Then where do you wanna go?" he asked her, taking his sheath from her shoulder and slinging it on his own.

She looked up at him, smiling slightly. "How about...the usual place?"

Cato's grin softened. "The usual place it is, then."

The 'usual place' was the school gardens. Nobody went there much, considering they all were too busy with their training that they all seemed to forget that they needed to chill once in a while.

It was fresh and quiet, so it was the perfect place for both of them to just sit down, laugh and talk about things.

Whenever they just needed time - or whenever Cato wasn't too busy training his butt off - they would go here. Sometimes, they'd catch a couple of people there, trying to escape the confines of training, just as they were, but mostly, they were alone.

Just the two of them, and Alix liked that.

"So..." Cato said, breaking the silence as they walked down the path. He put his hands in his pockets. "What now?"

"You know, we don't have to talk," she told him softly, running her fingers through her ponytail. "I like it when it's quiet."

Cato sighed, and they kept walking. Alix loved it, but she could sense Cato was too jumpy to do this right now.

She shook her head at him. "You can't keep still, huh?"

Cato grinned ruefully. "Sorry about that."

Alix shrugged. "No big deal," she told him. "You know we can't train right now, since apparently you" - she punched his gut lightly - "ate too much."

He laughed when she punched him, then rubbed the spot she punched. "Or risk getting a stomach ache," he said teasingly, poking her side.

This was them. Best friends, constantly doing this without harm, without shame.

She didn't care about what other people would say - or constantly kept saying - about the two of them. She enjoyed Cato's company; she just hoped he enjoyed hers as much as she did.

"Okay, okay," she said, trying to bat his hand away. He knew absolutely every ticklish spot she had, and she didn't want to get tickled right now. "Today is going to be one of those boring days, I just know it."

"How so?" Cato asked her. He looked around, then dumped his sheath on the ground. He threw himself down upon the grass, holding out his hand for her, inviting her to join him.

She slipped her hand into his, then sat down on the grass beside him. Again, to most, they'd find that simple gesture malicious. But honestly, they were just _friends. _Best friends, as far as anyone's concerned.

"I don't know. I just...know," she said, then when Cato laughed, she pushed him. "Okay, that sounded stupid, but - "

"But nothing," he chuckled. "I get what you mean. 'Sides, we seem to be the only two in this school, anyway. But they'll be back by Monday. As usual."

"We're not the only two here," Alix said, lying down, although she wasn't sure if Cato was wrong. It could be possible, since they were the only ones who didn't always want to go home. "No, I bet Clove's still here, somewhere. Or Dyan. Oh, wait, he went home last night."

Cato snorted. "He's your brother and you don't remember where he is," he said mockingly. "What kind of sister are you?"

"Shut up, Cato," she laughed. "I happen to be a great sister, you know."

"Well, so am I. A great brother, I mean."

"You don't have to tell me," she said, playing with the grass. "I believe you. Your sister adores you."

"She's five," he said dryly.

"So?" Alix said, turning on her side to face him. "If you weren't a great brother, she wouldn't adore you at all."

"I suppose you're right," he sighed.

"I bet she misses you," she said softly.

"I know she does," Cato said, "But I'm not going home."

Alix sighed. "Again? Why not?"

He turned around to face her too. "I just don't want to. You know how it is. You know how _he _is."

The 'he' Cato was referring to was his father. Alix knew about Cato's dad, how the man didn't seem to truly care for Cato at all.

She knew. She heard him every night when they were still living with their parents, scolding Cato for some small thing like missing a target by a measly centimeter.

It was as if Cato's dad cared more for the Games than he did for his son.

She also had the feeling that Cato's dad didn't like her at all. She couldn't understand why. She wasn't hurting Cato in any way, not like he was.

"Are you going home?" he asked in a quiet voice, looking into her eyes.

She hated it when he did that. Every time he did she had to control herself, to keep herself from blushing. It would give her away, and he'd find out, and everything would be ruined.

She shook her head vigorously so he wouldn't notice. "No, I'm not. Dyan's home; for Mom and Dad that's enough. They know I can take care of myself."

"You don't have to stay here for me, you know," he told her.

"Who said I was staying here for you?" she said defensively, but she was laughing.

He chuckled, but he said, "Be serious."

She smiled. "Okay, so _maybe _I'm staying here for you, but you're not the only reason."

"Enlighten me, then," he challenged. "What are the other reasons?"

Alix's mouth scrunched up. He knew she didn't have any other reason but that.

"See," he said, laying on his back again so he could watch the sky. "I don't know why you do these things for me."

"You're my friend, Cato," she sighed. "My best friend, remember? Always."

He chuckled. "Partners in crime."

"You?" she held out her fist.

"And me," he completed, touching his fist to hers.

That was already an old thing. They started it way back when they were ten, the first time they acknowledged to each other that they were best friends.

He suggested it. They were feeling awkward since they admitted to each other that they were best friends now, so he declared they make a handshake or something like that, to solidify it.

It's been their thing ever since.

"Alright," she said, getting up, "Time to stand up."

"Damn," Cato said, resting his hands behind his head. "Just when I feel comfortable already."

"C'mon, you lazy butt," she said, poking her sheath into his stomach. He laughed. "Do you want to train or what?"

"Fine, fine!" He said, standing up too. He threw his sheath over his shoulder again, taking a deep breath. Then he looked at her, a challenging glint in his eyes.

She looked at him suspiciously. "What?"

"I'm going to beat you this time," he told her, crossing his arms. "Hand-to-hand combat. You up for it?"

She smirked. She'd won against him, three days in a row, and what she'd realized was that all she had to do was smile at him. Then he'd seem to go off a little, then she could tackle him.

She didn't know what to make of that, but she took the opportunities gladly. "Like I couldn't beat you."

"I'd like to see you try," he said, grinning as they made their way back into the Academy.

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**A/N: Please review! This is my first Hunger Games multi-chap, and I sincerely hope you guys liked it!**

**This is only the starter chapter, and I've got the second chapter already here in my arsenal...it's just up to you guys whether or not I'll release this little mockingjay out into the world. :D**

**Again, please review!**


	2. Skills of a Victor

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.**

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Alix was having a wonderful dream about a new sword when she awoke to someone shaking her vigorously.

"Up, Alix, wake up!"

Alix groaned, batting her hand in a random direction to shoo away the disturber. She pulled her blanket over her head, and said in a muffled voice, "Go _away._"

"It's Monday, Alix, and it's seven-thirty. Class starts in an hour."

"I'll manage thirty more minutes," Alix said groggily. "Just go away."

It was quiet, and Alix sighed in relief. She proceeded to close her eyes when she felt the bed dip behind her and a pair of arms wrap themselves around her waist.

"Goddammit!" she yelled, jumping out of bed. She whipped around to see Cato lying flat-out on her bed, laughing his guts out. "Dammit, Cato! You know I hate getting woken up like that!"

He couldn't answer her because he was still clutching his stomach and having his laughing spasm.

She gave an indignant growl and tackled him, tossing both of them off the bed.

He gave a yell as they crashed to the floor, taking her sheets with them. They tumbled into one tangled heap, their voices morphing into laughs, and Alix barely managed to get out, "What is your problem?"

Cato grabbed her arms and switched their positions, so that he was hovering above her. He had her arms pinned down, and he was grinning. "It was the only way I could wake you up."

He was already dressed up in the Academy uniform (well, it wasn't really a uniform, just a convenience everyone in the school seemed to understand) - black sweatpants, his training boots, and a fresh white shirt. His training jacket was still hung against the door of the closet, and she realized he really wasn't going to start class without her.

She, on the other hand, was still in her usual sleepwear - her favorite green flannel shorts and a really big, old shirt of her dad's.

They were both still laughing, still on the floor, when the door flung open unceremoniously and a girl with dark hair already tied up in a ponytail poked her head in the room.

"Good morning, you two, rise and shine, it's an early start for - _whoa," _Clove's large eyes grew larger at the sight of them on the floor, Cato pinning Alix down. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Did - oh my God - were you two - _disgusting!"_

Cato sighed, and Alix just blushed. They understood Clove's meaning. "No, Clove, we were just - "

"Save it, don't wanna hear it!" Clove said, her tone still disgusted. "You two, off the floor. Sheesh, all I did was come up and wake you and here I'm greeted by - ugh," she wrinkled her nose.

"We're just friends, Clove," Alix said patiently as Cato helped her up. She looked at Cato in mock annoyance. "If anything, _he _woke _me _up, very irritably, might I add."

"Just making sure you weren't planning to sleep in today," Cato smirked, ruffling the top of her dark hair.

"Like you always do," Clove added dryly.

"Are you two done ganging up on me?" Alix asked, irritated. She was rummaging through their closet for her clothes. "I'll be done in a minute, you can leave!"

"You go," Clove told Cato. "You're the dude. She's just embarrassed because she's a girl."

"I did not need to know that, Clove," Cato shook his head, picking his sword up and swinging it over his shoulder. He grabbed his jacket and said, "I'll be waiting outside!"

As soon as Cato shut the door behind him, Clove smiled wryly. She cracked her knuckles, then told Alix, who had already gone into the shower, "If you're not out here in three minutes, I'm barging in there then helping you, regardless of whether you're naked or not!"

"_Clove!" _Cato and Alix's muffled voices sounded from behind their respective doors. Cato added in an annoyed tone, "We heard you!"

Clove rolled her eyes, but still managed to turn red. "Huh," she told herself. "Guess I do speak a bit too loudly."

"You think?" Alix bit, hopping on one foot as she tried to pull on her training boots. She took the liberty of dressing up in the bathroom; her towel was hanging over her shoulder, and her hair was oozing wet. She grabbed the towel and ran it quickly through her hair, trying to dry it well enough to keep it from seeping into her shirt.

"And not even two minutes flat," Clove said cheerfully. "Well done, that's got to be a new record - "

Alix grabbed her jacket, hairband and sword and pulled open the door, Clove following closely behind her.

"About time," Cato mock yawned, and Alix punched his stomach lightly.

"You two are ridiculously sweet," Clove said sarcastically, arranging the knives properly in her training jacket.

"Way to ruin the morning, Clove," Cato said angrily, looking genuinely pissed off.

Clove gave him that puppy-dog look that Alix would find hilarious, if not for the rising tension. "Aw, I'm sorry," she said, her tone dripping sarcasm.

"Clove, stop," Alix said impatiently. "He's not joking, you know."

Clove sighed. "Fine, fine," she told them, dropping the sarcasm she was bringing on the floor. "Sorry. Really, Cato."

Cato was glaring, but he merely shrugged. "Can't do anything about it," he muttered, then tried to smile bleakly at her. "You're Clove. Our oh so c-lovely, sarcastic Clove. Wouldn't be Clove if sarcasm didn't come with you."

Clove beamed at him. "Ah, at last, someone who understands," she said, closing her eyes in content.

"We heading for class or for breakfast?" Alix asked, halting just before the cafeteria doors.

It was jam-packed with people, a far cry from last Saturday. There were almost a hundred kids in there - okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but really. There were plenty of kids, sitting around tables on stools, on those plastic chairs reserved for extras, on other people's laps. Other's were throwing food at each other, older kids dumping soda pop on the younger ones, like some sort of 'initiation'...

In other words, it was chaos.

Clove's mouth scrunched up, obviously repulsed. "Can we just skip?" she asked, looking up at the two older ones.

"Skip," Alix swallowed. She didn't want to be inside the cafeteria with so many rowdy, noisy people and end up with potato salad in her hair.

Cato shrugged. "Skip." He shared a look with Alix, and she saw that he was just as repelled as she was.

They turned on their heels and headed straight for class, Clove parting with them to join her own. She was fifteen, and, being three years below them, had a different class to attend.

It was strange, how such a mismatched group of kids could get along so well.

There was the two of them; the seniors, as they were called, because after this year they'd leave the school forever and find a job, as a stonecutter, or maybe a Peacekeeper. Then there was Alix's brother, Dyan. He was tall and well-muscled, not in the way Cato was, but rather fit anyways, though he didn't like bringing up that Alix may be heavier and stronger than he was. He had the same straight, blue-black hair, but his eyes were a lighter shade of blue. Then there was Clove. Apparently _someone's brother _found her rather interesting, and he was the one who dragged her into their little group.

Different age groups, different personalities...but they got along so well.

"What are you thinking?" Cato asked her, seeing that blank look she had on her face when she was thinking.

She looked up at him, then smiled. "Nothing, really. Just...us. You and me and Clove...us."

He smiled back at her, then wagged his eyebrows playfully. "But you and me, mostly, right?"

She hit him on his shoulder, and he laughed his lovely laugh again.

Cato opened the door for her, and they stepped into the room. Most of their class was there, sitting in their chairs, or maybe tossing around airplanes at other people. The trainer wasn't there yet, so they tried looking for two empty seats next to each other.

But there was none. There were two empty chairs, yes, but far away from each other, on different corners of the room.

"Front or back?" Cato asks her, and she just shrugged.

"You choose."

Cato sighed, then, taking her by the elbow, lead her to the space in front. A guy was sitting next to the empty chair, just staring, and they wondered if he was a new kid. Probably not, since most - no, all - of them were born here in District 2. They practically grew up with each other.

Probably they just never paid attention before.

"Hey, kid," Cato said, his voice slightly edgy and aggressive, like when he was taunting her during sparring sessions. "Scram."

The boy looked up with menacing eyes. "Or what?"

"Or I'll beat you to a bloody pulp right here, right now," Cato challenged. "Get out. Now."

The boy looked up at Alix, then he smirked. "Oh, I see," he teased. "Want some room for your girl, huh?"

"I am not his girl," Alix snapped, grabbing the front of the guy's shirt. "Get the hell out of the chair or risk losing your nose."

The boy growled audibly, but stood anyway. He was mumbling a stream of curses as he made his way to the back, defeated.

Cato was still glaring, then he turned to Alix, his expression shifting from annoyance to cheerfulness. "You and I make such a great team."

"I know," Alix shrugged, sitting down on the recently-vacated seat, but Cato stopped her.

"No, you take that one," Cato said, pointing to the other chair. He sat down carelessly, dropping his things around his feet.

"Why?" she asked, but she sat down anyway. She placed her stuff neatly down, not like Cato.

"Because," he told her, but not giving her a definite answer. He just shrugged, and she realized that these were one of those times when Cato was not going to tell her anything.

The moment Alix sat down, the door opened wide with a loud bang, and their trainer walked in, his steps confident and menacing.

That was always the vibe of District 2. Brutal, confident, tense. Always ready for action.

And Alix loved that.

"All right, let's get started," he barked, his voice fierce. Their trainer was a large, broad-shouldered man who was in his late forties. His hair was graying some, but you couldn't really tell, thanks to his military-style buzzcut. Because of this, most of his students nicknamed him 'Buzzcut'. "The Games are nearing, and you guys are eighteen. Either you step up now and be Careers, or jump out the window."

"Can we hang ourselves instead?" a boy at the very back asked. The class laughed, and ol' Buzzcut's lips twitched.

"Only if you know how to to make a noose," he said, "and noose-making might be essential, if you get Reaped. But that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about stepping up to the plate."

When no one answered, his eyes narrowed. "_Volunteering," _he sneered. "And when you volunteer, you gotta be sure you're going to win. Otherwise, where would we be?"

"In District 12?" Alix muttered, and the people who heard laughed.

"Exactly," the trainer told her. "Now file out! One line for the boys, one for the girls. We're heading to the Training Center for a live demonstration as to what real victors are made of."

"Back of the line," Cato whispered to her as they stood up, following the rest of the class outside.

They hated being in front of the line. Usually it's the frontal people who get picked for stuff like cleaning and fixing up the dummies that were destroyed during the class. They were tall anyway, they could get away with it.

They were ordered to sit down on the matted flooring of the gigantic Training Center. During the weekend, most of the equipment was set aside, and if you wanted to train, you'd have to drag it out in the middle yourself. But during classes, the equipment - different sets of weights and work-out machines, targets for the knife- and axe-throwers, dummies that varied in size - were all decked out, ready for use.

There was a large space in the center of the room made specially for practice combat sessions. The examinations were held in a special, high-tech sort of room, usually with close-to-life settings and moving dummy-slash-puppets to attack.

While everyone was settling down, Buzzcut called, "Cato! Alix! Up, front and center. Now."

They shared a look, then went up to the trainer.

"Okay, now," he said aloud, calling the attention of the class. "Cato, Alix, grab a weapon or two from the Weapons Room. I want to know what you got, and be sure the other knows too."

Cato shrugged, and Alix nodded.

They went to the Weapons Room and were carefully selecting a weapon to use, when Cato said, "What do you think he's going to make us do?"

"Demonstrate," Alix answered, pulling out a small, slim sword from the sword rack. "I've got this and a small knife in my pocket. You?"

Cato pried his favorite sword off the rack. "Just this."

Alix's eyebrows furrowed. "Are you sure?"

He smiled. "Positive."

They made their way back, then showed Buzzcut their weapons. He looked them over, then nodded. "Now," he clapped his hands together, "Cato, to the far left of the combat area. Alix, to the right," he ordered. They followed, looking at each other tensely.

"I said today I was going to make you watch a live demonstration of how real victors are supposed to be," Buzzcut said. "And here they are. Both of you will fight. No deaths, not yet. Wait for the Games if you want to kill each other. But," he smirked, "I want you to show us what you've got."

Alix and Cato knew this was coming. It had happened several times before; it was nothing new. They were used to demonstrating combat, especially when it came to fighting each other.

Cato's shoulders began to heave up and down, and he was jumping slightly. He cracked his neck, and the sword was twitching in his hand.

This was what he looked like when he was eager for a fight. His muscles tense, his eyes concentrated...

Alix's way of preparing was slightly different. She squared her shoulders, her body growing tense. Her jaw clenched and her eyes, just like his, became dark with concentration.

"And...go!"

Alix charged at Cato, her sword ready in her hand. He ducked easily, and she sensed his sword coming at her from behind. She whipped around and deflected, their swords making a screeching sound at the impact.

Alix took two steps backward and swung her sword toward Cato's side, a feral growl escaping her lips. Cato's sword blocked it, and he pushed it away, making Alix slightly unbalanced.

They fought like two forces of nature, and it was hard not to keep your eyes on them.

Cato was like a rampaging tornado, and Alix was like a rushing stream, and the way they slashed and stabbed was amazing to watch.

Cato showed off his superior strength by running at her, carrying her over his shoulder and throwing her down to the ground. She gave a loud 'oof', the wind rushing out of her lungs. Just before Cato could strike, she rolled over, tripping him with her legs.

He pushed her off, but Alix was ready for that. She maneuvered around him, making him trip. Before he could hit her, she rolled behind him, then tackled him from the back.

He made a surprised sound, and his hand tried to pry her arms off. He threw her off his back by elbowing her in the stomach, which sort of hurt.

She clutched at it, wincing in pain, and she stepped back a bit. Cato turned on her, and his sword was, again, coming at her for a strike.

She deflected him, and she tried to stab him in his stomach, but he deflected that, too.

Everything was a blur; one second you think Alix is going to win when her sword comes at Cato at distorted angles, the other you think Cato is going to win by the way he dodges her attacks and comes at her with brute force.

She made the mistake, however, by trying to hit him on the head. He just pushed her hands away, knocking her sword out of her hand.

He began swinging the sword at her, but she ducked reflexively, making him miss. He growled and swung at her again, but she quickly moved away from him.

That's when Cato let out a really angry growl, that almost sounded like he wanted to bite someone.

In her shock, Cato took the opportunity and pinned her to the ground, his sword readily positioned to stab into her stomach.

They were panting, exhausted a bit, but their eyes never left each other's. Alix could still see that darkness, that _ferocity_ in his eyes, but slowly, they lightened. Finally, he grinned at her, and he whispered, "I win."

She gave a small, smug laugh, and said, "You can't say that."

He wondered what she meant, when he felt the tip of a blade press against his throat.

The knife. He'd forgotten all about her knife.

He looked into her eyes again, and she tried not to blush. She loved his blue eyes, the way they sparkled, even when he was angry, but when he looked at her like this...

She swallowed, and Buzzcut finally spoke, much to her relief.

"Excellent," he commended. "Wonderful. Get up, both of you."

He stared at her for one more second, before getting up. He held his hand out to her to help her up, and she gladly took it. He smiled at her, which was his way of telling her that the demonstration a while ago was nothing but a demonstration. No more, no less.

"You see?" Buzzcut told the class. "These two have respectable, and commendable fighting styles. Cato uses his brute strength to overpower Alix. He is strong, but he makes use of his agility and power to defeat her."

"I told you," Cato whispered in her ear, and she flinched a little when his lips accidentally brushed her ear. "Sorry," he added sheepishly, "But I told you. I win."

"Whereas Alix," Buzzcut continued, "uses technique. Take note of this: _technique. _Her fighting style is graceful in its own way, _but _it manipulates Cato's style to her own advantage. She twists his style so that instead of being defeated by it, she can use it against him."

Alix gave a smug sigh. "Right," she teased Cato, "You win."

"Which, in the end, gave them a fifty-fifty percent chance of defeating the other. Who wins between them, we cannot determine. Only _they _can tell us who will win, and who dies."

Buzzcut's eyes scanned the class, then he concluded, "That is what a victor is made of. He is supposed to be strong enough to overpower his opponent, but he has to have wit and technique to assure his victory. That is why he is called a _victor._"

He clapped suddenly, startling the class. "Now, each of you. Get a partner. I want you to focus on the fighting style of your partner, and attempt to overthrow them. Use their advantage and make it yours."

The class then began getting up, pairing with each other, grabbing swords and axes and knives to practice with. Cato and Alix lingered behind the rest of the class with smug smiles on their faces.

"You and I make a great team," Cato told her thoughtfully, running his finger across the blade of his sword.

"Of course we do," Alix told him, crossing her arms. "We're partners in crime, remember?"

He chuckled, shaking his head, then ruffling his blond hair with his hand. He held out his fist. "You?"

She looked up at him, and their eyes connected. She tried not to stare into them too long, because she hated what those eyes could do to distract her. "And me," she finished, bumping her fist against his.

"Well, then," Cato told her, "Let's go practice."

"Didn't we practice enough?" she complained, but she picked up her sword anyway. "We already did the demonstration."

Cato smiled at her. "Yeah, but we are the top fighters of this class for a reason," he reminded her.

"We're the top fighters," she repeated, raising an eyebrow, "which means we can use that title to get away with anything. Like, I dunno...lounging around?"

He laughed, then took her hand and tossed her over his shoulder. She squealed, and he twirled her around, tickling her. "You are insane!" he told her, but his voice was drowned out by her laughing. "We're not supposed to be lounging around, we're supposed to practice!"

"Cato!" Alix said loudly, beating her fists on his back. "Cato, put me down! Stop! Enough!"

They were both laughing, enjoying the moment together, and somehow, a part of Alix wished that they could be this way forever.

Little did she know that this was the beginning of the end.

* * *

**A/N: Please, please leave a review! ^^**


	3. Going Home

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.**

* * *

Another week of training, another Friday. It was suppertime, and most of the kids were already packing up to go home for the weekend.

Cato, Alix, Clove and Dyan were huddled around their usual table, eating the specialty usually reserved for Friday nights: a nice hot bowl of rice porridge with mystery meat and chives and a serving of fresh rolls.

"So what do you think the meat is this time?" Clove challenged, nudging Alix with her hip as they went to get a second serving. Dyan made it through three before he announced he was stuffed, but Cato was still able to scarf around four.

Alix shrugged, laughing as she looked over her shoulder back at their table. Dyan and Cato were slumped backward, rubbing their bellies with satisfied smiles on their faces. "Oh, I don't know. Beef, probably."

"Yeah, I think so too," Clove said, ladling out some more porridge into her bowl. "It has that chewy quality about it that beef has."

"Well, as long as the rolls are fresh," Alix said, sniffing the warm roll in her hand, before setting it down on her tray next to two other rolls. "I couldn't care less."

They sauntered back to their table, taking their places between the two boys. They proceeded to gulp down their meal, enjoying it thoroughly.

"That was delicious," Cato sighed, smiling at Alix. She stuffed a spoonful into her mouth, feeling the nice, goopy texture of the porridge slide down her throat. "Of course, I know you prefer the rolls more."

"Well, I disagree," Clove smirked, emptying the contents of her bowl. "By far, the porridge is the best."

"No, it's the rolls," Alix said, shaking her head, stuffing a half-roll into her mouth, then swallowing it down. "There's something so sweet about them that so good."

"Bah, it's your opinion," Clove shrugged, pushing her tray away. "I'm full, but I do want to dig into more of that porridge."

"And wait for yourself to explode," Dyan commented dryly, before smiling at her. He looked at his sister, then asked, "Are you going home this week? Mom and Dad really want to see you. They told me last time I visited."

Alix polished off another roll. "I don't know," she admitted, running her fingers through her ponytail. She shared a look with Cato, whose eyes were sort of sad.

"C'mon, it's just for the weekend," Clove said. "Your parents barely get to see you. It's just two days, then you'll be back here in no time."

Alix stared at Cato concernedly. "Are you going home?"

Cato's blue eyes grew hard. "Who cares?" he said dismissively, an edge to his voice.

"Your parents," Clove said sarcastically, but Cato cut her off.

"My parents don't care whether or not I go home," he snapped. The moment he did, a tension hung over the table, like it always did when Cato was angry. "They probably want me to stay here than go home."

"Your mom might want to see you," Dyan said carefully.

"Yeah, but Dad wouldn't be too thrilled," he said unfeelingly. "He'd wonder why I went home rather than focus on training. I don't care. I'd rather train than go home."

"Then do it for your sister," Alix said finally, her voice gentle. "C'mon, Cato. The Games will be in three weeks, and you haven't seen your sister in - what? A month?"

Cato's jaw clenched. Alix knew he loved his little sister more than anyone in the family, and she might be the only reason for him to go home. He wouldn't do it for anyone else.

"C'mon, Cato," Alix repeated. "I'll go home too. My house is right in front of yours if you need me. Your sister misses you, I'm sure of it, and you miss her too. Please, Cato." She met his eyes, and for a second, something other than callosity and cynicism was in them, something...soft. "Let's go home."

Finally, Cato relented. "Fine," he huffed, and the tension around the table lifted. "I'll go home. But only because you forced me to."

"You'll be fine, Cato," Clove said, as Dyan gathered up their empty trays and took them to the dishwasher. She looped her arm through his, saying in a teasing manner, "Alix will make sure of that."

Cato rolled his eyes. "I don't need Alix to protect me," he said, extricating his arm from Clove's grip. "I can take care of myself."

"Sure you can," Clove said sarcastically, smirking widely at him.

"I am right here," Alix said irritably, taking her place between the two, with Dyan catching up to Clove. "Stop talking about me, will you?"

"Well, we weren't talking about you, per se," Clove said a little too innocently. "I was just telling Cato he needs you."

Alix blushed, and Cato growled. "I don't need anybody," he said defensively. "I do well on my own, okay?"

"Enough with the callous exterior, Cato," Clove said snootily. "We all see how much you enjoy Alix's company. Don't tell me you'll deny that, too."

Cato looked at Alix, who was watching him expectantly. He recognized the expression on her face - something like a mix of caution and pain - and she usually used it when she knew she was about to receive a painful blow during a sparring session.

"Let's just go pack up," he said dismissively, brushing the issue off gruffly. He strode forward, avoiding the others.

Clove shared a look with Alix, who gave her a small, sad smile.

What Cato said - or rather, didn't want to say - affected her a lot.

She knew Cato didn't like talking about feelings, and he usually did his best to hide anything that wasn't happiness, relief, violence or anger. The only time he ever showed anything other than that was when he was overly infatuated with a girl named Kyra, back when they were fourteen.

That was the first time he'd expressed obsession, and he unconsciously drove Alix away because of it. He refused to acknowledge her presence, and they fought over the smallest things. When one of them got fed up, they would stop talking and just go to bed, not facing the other out of anger.

He discovered after a month of dating Kyra that she was only after physical intimacy, a prospect that Cato didn't entertain and was horrified to entertain. He eventually distanced himself from her, but not before he had an all-out rampage of curses and threats because of feeling used.

He quickly returned to his former self, the one that only ever focused on training, winning, and just hanging out with friends, and his friendship with Alix was renewed.

She thought it grew stronger because of it, even though sometimes she wished it never happened, because Alix couldn't stand the sight of Kyra's silky, wavy blonde hair and curvy body all over Cato.

Things went back to normal. She and Cato were best friends, and they trained together, like they always had. He assumed his violent, strong and assertive personality, the one Alix loved, and they pretended everything that concerned Kyra never happened.

Of course, that just meant that, once again, sadness was not a part of Cato's vocabulary.

And neither, apparently, was love.

Alix sighed. She loved Cato's tough exterior, because it made him seem intimidating, confident and strong. But she also wanted that part of him that broke down under weighty circumstances, the one she used to comfort, to reassure.

Now, it seemed, he was trying to carry all his feelings on his shoulders.

"Don't worry about him," Clove said, interrupting her thoughts. "He's just confused. You know how he is when the Games are nearing."

Alix tried to muster a smile. "I know."

Clove tilted her head, looking at Alix quizzically. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she lied. She looked at Clove, trying to mask her distress by beaming at her, but somehow with the look in Clove's eyes she knew she wasn't convincing.

Soon, Clove parted ways with them again, headed for her room on the fifth floor. Dyan bid them goodbye when they reached the sixth, leaving Alix alone with Cato.

There was a tension between them that was new to her. She didn't recognize it, and she couldn't explain why it was there. Maybe it was because he looked so angry and spiteful.

They didn't speak until they reached the eighth floor. They were both quiet until they reached the room, and Cato murmured to her, "Do you have the key?"

Alix blinked at him, them fumbled in her pockets for the room key. She handed it to him, her fingers brushing against his skin. His eyes flickered to her for a second, before he popped the key into the lock and opened the door.

When he handed the key back to her, she felt his hand close around hers for the longest second. Then he went in, as if nothing occurred.

She clutched the key in her hand, and, taking a deep breath, went in after him. She closed the door behind her, and silence enveloped them once again.

"Cato, listen - " Alix began, but Cato cut her off, holding his hand up to stop her.

"No, Alix, you listen," he said, his voice firm, but there was something in it that made Alix realize he wasn't going to lash out at her. "About what happened a while ago. I'm sorry. I wasn't - I mean, I didn't know what to say. I didn't mean to, you know, seem so callous or rash or something. You're supposed to be my best friend. I'm supposed to be able to tell you everything."

"We're best friends," Alix affirmed carefully. "But you're not supposed to feel obliged to do anything for me. That's not how friendship works, Cato. It's not some sort of give and take relationship." She looked up at him, meeting his eyes, then quickly looked down. "I choose to give and give and give, even if you don't give me anything in return."

"But that doesn't feel right," Cato told her. He ran his hand through his hair. "Thanks a lot. Now I feel like I'm taking advantage of you."

She gave a shaky laugh. "Don't," she told him. "You're not. I _like _doing that. I'm your friend, and I like just giving and giving to you."

"But I don't like taking and taking from you," he said, and there was a slight bitterness in his tone that he couldn't mask even if he tried.

"Then you try to give to me," she said simply, but he shook his head.

He looked at her, and stepped closer to her. "I don't know what I can give you that's worth anything you give me," he admitted. "You've done so much for me, and I'm not doing enough for you."

"Just being my best friend is enough for me, Cato," she said. "Don't try too hard."

She bit her lip. Honestly, she really wasn't sure about that last comment.

She wasn't sure if them being friends was enough for her at all.

Sure, she loved the way they were now - light, carefree - but somehow a part of her felt that that wasn't enough anymore. That she wanted, maybe even expected, more from Cato than just friendship.

But she also knew that deep down, Cato wasn't capable of that. She didn't like that circumstances were the reason Cato was how he was - cynical and how he wanted nothing to do with love. He thought feelings were a weakness, and the only feelings worth feeling was triumph, violence and anger.

And she was stupid enough to love him still. She wondered why she did. Maybe she felt that he needed her to help him get through things, and she needed to help him realize feelings were never a bad thing.

She pushed the negative, depressing thought from her mind, then chuckled. "You might end up hurting yourself."

Cato's lips twitched, and he smiled. "Me? Get hurt? As if," he told her, and slowly, the pressure that was weighing both of them down lifted, and they felt lighter. "I'm Cato. I never get hurt."

Alix laughed, and Cato took that as some sort of cue. "We're best friends," he said softly, raising his eyes to look into hers. "You?"

She waited for him to raise his fist, but he didn't. She was confused for a while, before she realized that Cato wasn't trying to joke around. He was really, _sincerely _asking her a serious question. If they were best friends, and if they always will be.

She smiled softly, and her head nodded slightly. "And me," she completed.

There was something in Cato's eyes that was different, but she didn't understand what it was. Finally, he said, "C'mon. Let's start packing. We're going," he mock-winced, "Home."

* * *

Alix and Cato stood side by side on the road in front of their houses, and she could sense the reluctance that Cato was trying to hide.

Their houses looked somewhat alike; medium-sized and shabby-looking, painted white but looked worn as time passed. But since Cato had better living conditions since his father had a better job, his house was slightly bigger than Alix's, and he had a front porch. Their roof was also extended, so it was easy for them to climb on it without worrying that the roof will come crashing down.

Alix remembered how when they still lived with their parents she and Cato would climb up on the roof and just sit there, watching the sun disappear behind the mountains, sharing the rolls her mother gave them despite the fact that they could barely afford enough rolls for the family.

Smoke was drifting upward from the chimney of Alix's house, and it looked warm and cozy from the outside, whereas Cato's looked cold, the only light on being the one from the kitchen, where his mother was making supper.

"I can't believe you talked me into doing this," he muttered under his breath, and Alix smiled sympathetically.

"You'll be fine, Cato," she told him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He impulsively reached up to catch it, but caught himself instead, and lowered his hand.

The gesture was not missed by Alix. Her eyes flickered to his hand, and she reluctantly withdrew hers, placing it tentatively on her side.

He turned to face her, and sighed. "Well," he shrugged, his head cocking to the direction of his house, "See you."

Alix smiled at him. "You'll be alright," she said. "It's just two days. Okay?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Okay," he told her, walking toward his house. "Bye," he called out, raising his hand to wave at her.

"Bye!" she said cheerfully, waving back, before taking off to the other side of the road. He lingered long enough to watch her knock, and her parents opened the door for her. He felt a pang of jealousy as her father embraced her tightly, and he swore he could make out the words 'my little girl' coming from her father's lips.

Her brother was right behind her parents, already home. He'd left the Academy a couple of hours earlier than they did, and yet he was still in his Academy clothes.

Cato gritted his teeth, then told himself, "Here goes nothing," before raising his hand to knock.

It was several seconds before the door burst open, his mother and sister waiting behind it.

"Cato!" the little girl yelled, launching herself in Cato's arms.

He tried to suppress a laugh, but he failed. "Hey there, kiddo," he said, carrying her up in his arms. "God, you've gotten heavier," he jokingly winced, and she giggled.

His mother had that worn look on her face from the day's work, but she was still happy to see him. She gave him a peck on his cheek. "Cato."

"Hi, Mom," Cato smiled, setting his sister down. He leaned in to embrace her. "How are things?"

"Well enough," she said, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. "But look at you. You're getting thinner; have you been eating?"

"Mom," Cato groaned, "How on earth can I be getting thinner, I eat, like, fifteen servings a day - "

"I swear you're getting thinner," his mother said, with a _tsk. _"Come on, wash up so we can have supper. I was making your sister's favorite soup, I hadn't realized you'd be coming. It's been so long."

Cato immediately felt guilty, but he shook the feeling away almost as quickly as he felt it. "Yeah, well, I've been training hard," he said dismissively. He looked around, then asked, "Where's Dad?"

His mother's lips scrunched up, and she briefly shrugged. "He's out late working," she told him. "You know how bad things are right now with the mining accidents recently. He's trying to work extra hard for income."

Cato tried to stop himself from responding impulsively, but he couldn't help himself, so he just rolled his eyes. His mother saw it, but she reconsidered telling him off.

Cato dumped his sword and bag on the couch, and his mother headed for the kitchen. He heard water running and pots being scrubbed, and his sister resumed her place on their small coffee table, coloring.

Deciding he had nothing better to do, he followed his mother, grabbed a dishcloth and helped her dry the plates.

"So how's school?" she asked, handing him a plate to dry.

"Oh, fine," Cato shrugged. "Still the top of the class. We had demonstrations last Monday. Apparently it was to show the class what 'real victors' were supposed to be like."

"Really?" she said, and he could see her lips pressing together in a smile. "And who demonstrated?"

Cato made a sound, and his lips twitched into a smirk. "Me, of course," he said, and there was that tone of pride in his voice. "Alix was my partner. She was pretty good, but in the end, I won." He didn't add that she had that knife against his throat, because somehow that made him feel like a weakling.

"Ah," his mother said, and her smile turned smug. "How is Alix? Did she go home, too?"

"Yeah, she came with me," he said, putting the plates back in the cabinet. "She's fine. Same as always."

"Mm" was his mother's reply. "Nothing new? No fights, no nothing?"

Cato wondered where his mother was going with this. Carefully, he answered, "No. Nothing new."

His mother was silent for a while, and she just kept handing him things to dry. Finally she said, "You know Dyan comes here and visits when he's home."

"Really?" Cato said, setting aside some bowls for supper. Well, he'd already had supper, but he was hungry, so he might as well eat.

"Yes. He keeps us updated with you and his sister," she said, "and what goes on in the Academy."

"I suppose Dad's not really that thrilled that all I do is train?" Cato muttered. "I bet he's expecting more from me."

His mother stared at him for a brief second, before resuming her work. "Your father _is _thrilled that you're doing so well," she said cautiously, and Cato had a feeling she was leaving some major details out.

"But?" he asked, and he could already feel some anger bubbling up.

She sighed, handing him the kitchen knife. "But nothing, Cato," she smiled tiredly. "Nothing. Your father is nothing but thrilled."

"Hmph" was all Cato could say. He rubbed the knife a little too brashly with the cloth, and he could feel it making small cuts on his skin.

"Be careful with that knife, will you, Cato?" his mother snapped, grabbing the knife out of his hand before he could do further damage. "Sometimes I don't trust you enough to handle the blades."

"I handle blades all the time in school," he mumbled.

"Wash up," she ordered, waving him out of the kitchen, "And help your sister. I'll set the table so we can eat."

Cato mumbled under his breath again, feeling himself get shoved out of the kitchen. He sighed, and told his little sister, "C'mon, kiddo. Mom says we've got to wash up now."

"Wait," she said, tilting her head as she colored. Cato walked over to her, kneeling down so he could see what she was doing.

She was coloring a picture of a house, and she was busy with making the roof green.

"Is that our house?" he asked her, and she shook her head.

"No," she said simply. "It's just a house. Our house doesn't have a green roof. Ours is black."

"Well, how about I help you color it so we can wash up like Mom told us?" he said. "I'm faster."

She giggled. "No, no, no," she told him. "I want to color."

"Well, hurry it up, kiddo, or Mom'll get angry," he said, ruffling the top of her blonde hair.

He sat down next to her, watching her color. It was amazing how she found doing this so interesting, and he wondered how she could be so happy. Then again, she was five, and she wasn't aware of how hard it was being older.

Somehow, he was envious of everyone. How could they be so happy? What made them so happy? Surely, they couldn't all be victors. They weren't all successful and skilled like he was. Look at his sister. The only thing she knew how to do was draw and color, and yet it made her so happy.

And Cato wondered, _why?_

Suddenly, the door opened, and Cato got to his feet. His shoulders tensed, and he met the eyes of the large, muscular man standing in the doorway.

The man's jaw clenched, and he looked like he wasn't happy to see Cato.

"Ah," he said in a gruff voice, his eyes narrowing. "You're home."

Cato swallowed, his teeth gritting together involuntarily as he said, "Hi, Dad."

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**A/N: Please leave a review! It would be really appreciated and it would totally make my day! ^^**


	4. Awkward Conversations

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.**

* * *

_"Never felt like this before_

_Are we friends or are we more?_

_As I'm walking towards the door_

_I'm not sure..."_

_- Change My Mind_

Cato sighed, watching Alix as she took a sip from the mug she cradled in her hands.

They were sitting on top of his roof drinking the tea his mother made for them. He couldn't really tell whether it had mint or anise or whatever herb could be put in tea, all he knew was that it was, well, _spicy._

"Did you hear us, though?" Cato said in a quiet voice, resuming the conversation he'd been having with Alix since this morning. He remembered when they were still living here she always came around during the weekends really early, sometimes too early he was still sleeping. "I mean, I swear I was trying to control my temper, it's just - "

"Yeah," Alix said softly, staring down at the tea, not meeting Cato's eyes. "Yeah, we could hear you. We tried to pretend not to, but we could hear you."

Cato shook his head, growling slightly.

"Dammit," Cato said under his breath, then louder, as he could feel his composure slipping a little. "Dammit!"

"Hey," Alix said cautiously. "It's not like you could help it. Like you said a while ago...your father started it."

"Well, he did!" Cato snapped, then hissed when the hot tea spilled onto his shirt, scalding his skin. He set the mug down on the roof, none too carefully, making a loud clang. "I tried to be nice, didn't I? He just had to tick me off right in front of the dinner table - "

"Cato, you sound like you think your father had no right to tick you off," Alix said, her eyes narrowing. "No offense, but really, he does, whether you like it or not. You don't have the right to tick your father off, because you're just his son."

Cato gave a loud, angry snarl, but he knew she was right. But he wasn't mad that _she_ was right, he just couldn't accept the fact that what she _said _was right.

He hated it when his father did that. Pointing every little mistake he made, making him look like one big failure.

He was trying his damnedest, alright? His _damnedest._

Why couldn't he see that?

"Cato," Alix said comfortingly, and usually it was that tone of voice that made him feel better, "I know you feel hurt and angry. It's only right that you do. But don't take it out on yourself."

"I'm not taking it out on myself, okay?" he said exasperatedly. "I'm just showing him that I'm not weak. That I'm better than all of them, than everyone else. Including you," he said in a low tone, because he really was trying to better than she was, he just didn't want to make it seem like he was insulting her or anything.

"I know," she said, her voice getting bitter around the edges. "But you don't have to be better than me. You already are. I know that. Everyone knows that."

"Everyone but Dad," Cato said with a scoff.

They were quiet, and Alix fiddled with her empty mug. Cato's expression was smoldering, but he was trying to hide it, like he always did with all his other feelings.

"You'll understand your dad when you become one, one day," she said quietly, and that startled him.

"What?" he said, sitting up straighter, looking directly at her. His tone was horrified.

Honestly, he didn't really think about having kids until _now._

He knew they were essential to the society - how else would there be a Hunger Games? - but it was _way _out of his mind right now.

Him? Have kids?

He didn't really know what to make of that. He wasn't sure that topic was even supposed to be discussed. It felt so taboo.

She blushed, and lowered her eyes. He hated it when she did that, because he wanted to look directly into her eyes when they were talking. It made him understand her better, especially when they were making no sense. Unfortunately, she seemed to be avoiding his gaze more often, like she was trying to hide something from him.

Like now.

"Did you just say I was going to be a _dad?" _Cato demanded.

Alix bit her lip, and gathered all her courage to look at him. She could still feel that her blush was on her cheeks, and she hated that. It gave so much away. "Why? Don't you want to?"

"I don't - I mean, I really haven't thought about it," Cato said, his voice still sharp from his alarm. "I honestly don't know whether or not I want to have any kids. And even if I did, with whom? I don't love anyone. And how? Why would I want to have kids?"

Something sad bloomed in Alix's eyes, and he didn't know what to make of it.

This conversation was going all wrong.

What were they talking about? Why the hell were they talking about all this? Kids were an out-of-the-way subject, period. He didn't like talking about having kids.

"I just thought...you know...if we get older..." she stuttered, her violet-blue eyes darker than usual. _Careful there. _"Well, I want to have kids."_  
_

"Yeah, good luck with that," Cato said sarcastically, leaning on his elbows. He looked at her, and she had a sort of indignant expression. "I didn't mean it that way, you know. That maybe you're not going to get a husband or something because you're not attractive. You're attractive, okay? I mean, that's not what I mean." Okay, now he really didn't understand what he was saying.

Why was he even stuttering? He wasn't supposed to care about any of this. But his own statement pissed him off.

She would get a husband? What the hell was that? Not that he was feeling protective or anything. He didn't really feel anything for her - okay, that's just stupid. Of course he felt something for her. They were best friends, but he was only going to go so far as that. He didn't feel any more for her than friendship.

Right?

"I mean, pretty. You're pretty. You're not going to have any trouble finding a..." he trailed off. He didn't want to think about it. The prospect of Alix marrying off was, well, _off. _He didn't see it, and he sure as hell didn't _want_ to see it. "What I'm trying to say is that I don't think it's a great idea. You know, having kids. It's hard to take care of them, they just finish off your savings, your income, they make you stay up at night because of their incessant bawling..."

"But you cared about your sister when she was a baby," Alix said softly.

Cato slapped his forehead. "Of course, that's different," he explained, but now that she mentioned it, he couldn't see much of a difference.

He was thirteen when his little sister was born. It was a school day, and he'd just finished packing his only suitcase for when he moved to the Academy. He and Alix had just made it to the school when he was called back, with news that his parents were in the hospital, and his mother was in labor.

He was numb when he received the news, and he didn't know what to do. He was lucky Alix was there with him, because she dragged him by the hand and, leaving their luggage with the Peacekeepers, ran all the way to the hospital.

It wasn't a very big building, but it was clean. It smelled sterile and antiseptic, like the alcohol the Academy's infirmary sometimes used when there were scratches and wounds. Alix could hardly afford alcohol, but he knew they had a small bottle of those stuff at home.

The nurses there made them wait outside the delivery room. He didn't know where his father was, but he could hear his mother's loud, agonized screams through the door. He could feel Alix grip his hand tightly, and he was thankful she reached out for that.

He didn't want to be the one to reach out to hold her hand. He thought it would make him look out of control with his emotions, make him look weak.

But he really needed an anchor, so he held onto Alix's hand, firm and tight, waiting for the screams behind the door to stop.

Finally, after three hours, another scream pierced the night, a shrill, high-pitched crying that was new and fresh, and somehow it brought tears to his eyes.

He hadn't known that he was on his feet, and without warning, before Alix could stop him, he burst into the room, his face white.

His mother was tired and covered in sweat, but she had happy tears in her eyes as she cradled the little baby - his sibling - in her arms. His father was standing next to her bed, looking down at both of them, and it was the first time he'd seen a smile like that on his father's face.

His voice was quavery as he managed to make out, "Mom?"

His mother saw him, and her tired eyes became brighter. "Cato," she said weakly, her voice hoarse, but nothing could describe the look in her eyes, the joy. "Come over here and meet your sister."

It was a girl. Cato had hoped for a brother, but when he approached his mother and looked at the newborn baby girl, something protective overcame him.

Who cared about not having a brother, when he had _this?_

She was beautiful. A single lock of blonde hair was atop her head, which already distinguished her as part of his all-blond family. Her eyes weren't open, but who would question that this baby was his sister?

His mother gestured for him to hold her, and she set him carefully in his arms.

And just like that, it clicked.

His sister cooed and snuggled close to his chest, her little head resting against his heart.

And somehow, he couldn't remember a time when he felt happier.

Cato walked around the room, carrying his sister, and for the first time in his life, he whispered a tune to her, soft and sweet, something he didn't think he'd known.

After a while, Alix poked her head in the room, and she was blushing with embarrassment. Probably because she was feeling as though she was intruding on a private family matter.

"Excuse me," she said in a guilty voice, and she kept glancing furtively at the floor, "But one of the Academy's Peacekeepers is here to fetch Cato. They want to know if you'll let him leave, or if you'd rather he stayed here first."

Though his father was glaring at her, his mother smiled at her with a welcoming feel. "Of course, Cato can leave if he wants to. It's his choice."

"No, Cato's going back to the Academy," his father said firmly. "He has to continue training. It's important for his future."

His mother's smile shrank a little. "If that's what you want, dear," she sighed, then look again at Alix. She raised her hand, inviting her to come in. "Come on in, dear. You can meet the baby, if you want."

Cato's father looked like he wanted to argue, but since his wife was in a not-so-stable state, he relented. Alix stepped inside, and Cato looked at her, a wide smile on his face.

She'd never seen him looking so happy.

Slowly, Cato made his way to her so he could show her his sister. He stepped too close that their foreheads and toes were touching, but somehow it didn't matter anymore. He saw the wonder in Alix's face as she gently caressed the baby's cheek with a delicate finger.

The baby's eyes fluttered open, and it was a bright, brilliant blue, just like Cato's. She cooed, and grabbed Alix's finger, not wanting to let go even if Alix tugged at it gently.

She looked into Cato's eyes, so close to her own, and although she blushed at their proximity, they both laughed.

"She likes me already?" Alix asked, and Cato chuckled.

"Well, who wouldn't like you?" Cato had told her at the time, and then his eyes widened, his cheeks turning pink, like he was caught in an embarrassing situation.

They both looked down, bumping their foreheads, and it hurt a little. They looked up again, and they both laughed, but softly, so they wouldn't disturb the baby.

The baby, the baby, the baby. It was all about her all the time, and everyone was charmed by her. Who wouldn't love her? As fresh and sweet as the morning, like a rainbow after the rain.

And Cato loved her more than anything.

Alix didn't really know what it was like for him, because she was only two when Dyan was born, ans she didn't remember much. But he knew that when she laid eyes on his sister, there was that sparkle in her eyes that was brighter and stronger than he'd ever seen before.

And in that moment, she'd been so radiant and beautiful. Alix was looking down at the baby, but Cato had been looking at her, and he marveled at the way she already seemed to love his sister.

Even now, five years after, he knew how much she cared for his little sister.

"How can it be any different?" Alix said, crossing her arms. "She was a baby, and I saw the way you held her, the way you love her."

Although he now acknowledged the fact that it wasn't so different after all, he refused to back down on what he'd told her. "She's my sister. Of course I'll love her, no matter what."

Alix looked at him in disbelief. "Are you saying that you can't love any kid you'll have the way you loved your sister?"

"I can't love what I don't have," Cato said fiercely, sitting up now. "And I won't have any kids. So how can I love them, if I won't have them?"

"Cato," Alix said cautiously, pulling her knees up to her chest, "are you scared?"

Cato looked at her with scorn. "Me? Scared? What the hell would I be scared of?"

"Of...I don't know, of being in love," she said in a quiet voice. "Of having a family. A future."

"I'm not scared of having a future, Alix," Cato snapped. "I know what my future will be. And I can be sure as hell that I'm not having a family. I'd fallen in love once, if you remember - "

"I remember that all too clearly," Alix mumbled bitterly.

" - and you see where that got us," Cato finished, his eyebrows hunched because of his annoyance. The time with Kyra was one he didn't like to remember. "So I'm not going to ruin my life like that again. I don't want a family. If you want one, that's your choice. I made mine."

"But what about me?" she said, and she could already hear the pleading tone in her voice. "You have me! You know I won't hurt you!"

"What do you mean by that?" Cato said, his eyes narrowing. What was she suggesting? Him and her - together? Marry?

He thought they were just friends. And that they would always be that way. He never really thought she'd have any other feelings for him. Did she?

Alix realized that what she said could reveal too much. She already saw the look in Cato's face that said recognition. "I mean," Alix said, avoiding his gaze, "You know me. We're best friends, and I can't hurt you like Kyra. We've known each other for such a long time. I can't hurt my best friend."

"Oh," Cato said, relief evident in his features. "I thought you were suggesting something else."

"What else could I be suggesting?" Alix asked nervously. "We are best friends, right? You and me."

"Yeah," Cato said absentmindedly. "But you know you and I are just friends, right? Best friends. I don't want any more than that. I don't have time for that, or the tolerance."

Did he really?

He'd known Alix since they were children. Surely, he'd want more from her than being just friends. Right?

He couldn't be sure. All he could be sure about was that he didn't want to change the way things already were. He was comfortable enough with his life; he didn't want to get his hopes up then have it crumble before his eyes.

Alix swallowed, subsiding into silence. She sniffed, and tried to inconspicuously wipe away the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes.

_Stupid tears, _Alix thought, feeling weak.

She hated this. She hated all of this. And she so wanted to hate Cato right now.

He was being so stupid. He was so selfish, thinking only about himself and what makes him happy. He didn't want a family, or kids...what, then, did he want?

Did he want to just grow old alone? Die alone?

What did he think of her? Someone who'll ruin him? She was _right there! _Right there for him when he needed her, and she would never hurt him!

She wouldn't let that happen, him dying alone. She cared about him too much to let him drown himself in loneliness. She was his best friend, and she would remain that way.

"Aw, Alix," Cato said, running his fingers ruefully through his hair. "Are you crying?"

"I'm not crying!" she snapped, wiping her eye impatiently. "Why the hell would I be crying?"

Cato lowered his eyes, gritting his teeth together. "Was it something I said?"

Alix looked up at him, anger sparking in her eyes. _Yes, _she wanted to tell him, _Yes, Cato, it's everything you said. It's saying once and for all that you don't care about me, or about anyone._

But she didn't say that. She didn't think it would help the situation if she told him the truth: about her feelings, about her emotions, about everything she'd ever felt for him from the very beginning. She thought it would scare him off, since he hated feelings.

"No," she lied, composing herself. She tried to put on a smile. "No, I'm cool."

"You're lying, Alix," Cato said, his voice low. "I know that look in your eyes."

"No, really, Cato," she said, pinching herself to keep the tears at bay. "I'm fine."

Cato swallowed, looking at her intently. She bit her lip, lowering her gaze down to her hands.

Cato sighed. It sounded like he was resigned, and slowly, he scooted closer to her and put his arms around her.

He didn't know what to feel. He knew he'd hurt her feelings in some way, so he did what he thought was fitting and embraced her.

Alix stiffened when he did, but little by little she relaxed, and settled into his arms.

He was trying to comfort her, she knew. It was his mechanism when it came to these things; he did what was right for the situation, or because he felt it was what he was supposed to do.

It made her sad knowing that he never did these things because he wanted to. He did things because it was what was expected of him, and she really couldn't understand how that worked. How he could be so out of tune with his feelings.

"Hey you two!" came a voice from below, and Cato and Alix looked down.

Clove was waving at them, Dyan right beside her. She had a huge grin on her face, and her hair was tied up in its usual high ponytail. "Come on down!"

Cato let go of Alix, trying to avoid looking at her. "C'mon," he told her, motioning for her to climb down the roof with him.

He jumped down, landing on his feet. Unfortunately, Alix jumped a second after, which caused her to land on top of him, making both of them topple down to the ground.

Cato grunted as he felt the wind rush out of his lungs at the impact, and Alix gave a loud 'oof' as she landed on his chest. "Oh, I'm sorry," Alix told him sheepishly, then she started laughing, because she couldn't help herself.

Cato tried not to laugh with her, but eventually he got carried along. He liked it better this way, them just being like this. Why didn't she want things to be as simple as this? Did she want to complicate things? As if being friends wasn't already enough.

Clove and Dyan stared at them, Clove with a very smug expression. "You know, you two are adorable."

"Yeah, yeah, Clove," Cato said, still chuckling. "Blah, blah, blah. Can't hear you."

Clove stuck out her tongue in annoyance, and that made Alix laugh harder. Cato loved it when she laughed, because she laughed like there was nothing in the world that could make her sad or upset. She laughed, and to Cato it was always a sound of pure happiness that couldn't be broken.

He really wondered what it would be like if he didn't have her around.

* * *

**A/N: Please, please leave a review? It's been quite a while since I wrote this, and I decided to give it another chance.**


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